We're All We've Got
by sunsetofdoom
Summary: Phineas and Ferb have finally been busted, and for real this time. But when they get sent away to a mysterious reform camp, they might not come back the same as they were- or they might not come back at all.
1. Chapter 1

"Hey Ferb, whaddaya wanna do today?"

Ferb was startled- first, because he had been completely absorbed in his book when Phineas had posed this question, and second, because he very rarely had too much say in the daily projects. Phineas was the idea guy. Ferb was the engineer. It was just how things worked. But apparently, after two years, his brother was experiencing a lapse of imagination. The first two summers, they had been up to their ears in extra blueprints that they made up in their spare time, so they had continued during the school year- Winter Break, Spring Break, weekends, holidays snow days- now, they had exhausted their pre-planned projects before July, and had simply decided to "wing it" this year.

The green-haired boy contemplated this for a moment; there were several things from science fiction movies he would like to try a hand at...

He flipped through the pages of his novel, stopping at and pointing to a picture of a hovercar.

Phineas seemed intrigued by this, probably because he wasn't much of a sci-fi buff as his brother. He definately wouldn't have thought of that.

"Ferb, I know what we're going to do today!"

* * *

As per usual, Candace was freaking out over some minuscule detail or another- today it was whether her hair was "Too orange-ish" or "Too red-ish" for Jeremy's liking. The fact that they had been going steady for six and a half months didn't seem to curb her anxiety that he would "stop liking her" for whatever minimal reason- at least, until she caught a glimpse out the window of a launch pad,a red station wagon with steel-reinforced wings-

Candace was out the door before her mother's number was completely dialed.

Candace didn't particularly like manhandling her mother-but at times it was a necessary evil. Like now. Now was DEFINITELY necessary. The boys were just BEGGING to be busted-souping up the FAMILY CAR to make it FLY? That was out of the question. So here she was dragging the woman who birthed her down the sidewalk on their street, up to the gate, and into the backyard.

She knew already that it would be gone. It didn't stop her from trying, of course, but somewhere in her 'heart of hearts' she knew that she would never hear the sweet sound of her mother saying-

"I SEE it!"

The teenager snapped out of her reverie at the sound of her mother's voice, answering everything she had been praying for for the past two years-could this be real? Could the boys actually be BUSTED?

* * *

"Hard left, _hard left_!"

The red station wagon barely grazed several rooftops.

"You call that left?"

Finally, after the two boys made it back to the launch pad in peace (much to Ferb's relief-if Phineas had been harmed on his watch, especially when he had suggested the project, he never would've forgiven himself) the boys were enjoying a toast of lemonade to a job well done, when-

"PHINEAS DANIEL FLYNN AND FERBIAN ANDREW FLETCHER, GET DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT!"

The brothers glanced at each other nervously-everyone knew that when Mom dragged out the full name, you were pretty much doomed. But they came down anyway- really, where else could they go?-and stood at attention as Mom grilled them about dishonesty, dangerous situations, the whole shebang.

Ferb could only hope it wouldn't end too badly for them. Because if Phineas got hurt, he would've broken a very important promise.

* * *

**SunsetofDoom here, back from the grave! Haha. Yes, people, I know it's short. This is kind of a teaser chapter, to attempt to get people to actually read it. HAHA IT WORKED. Unless you're not reading this. But then who am I talking to? Wait, what? AHHHH MY BRAIN.**

**So, this fic will be a bit dramatic, painful, and hopefully heart-wrenching. Apparently when I outlined it for my friend, she wanted to cry. So if you want to read a happy, cutesy, puppies-and-kittens fic, IT'S NOT THIS ONE. DO NOT PASS GO. DO NOT COLLECT $200.**

**On to business. I do not own the characters of Phineas and Ferb, and I have no affiliations to Dan Povenmire and Jeff "Swampy" Marsh  
This ginormous, pain-in-the-ass fic is dedicated to my friend Brianna, who idea-bounced with me, helped me overcome my uncertainty, and gave me the name of my villain. Bri, hun, this one's for you! :)**

**Second chapter is in the works.**


	2. Chapter 2

As he climbed aboard the bus, Phineas realized that his hands were shaking ever-so-slightly. Really, it wasn't a surprise, seeing as up until now, the biggest actual "tragedy" that he had gone through had been last fall when Perry had disappeared for longer than usual- they had found him a week later with some bad burns, in the care of a college-age girl who had luckily been studying to become a vetrinarian. He had been devastated then, but never in his life had he felt so betrayed and utterly _alone_ as now.

Well, almost alone.

"Hey, Ferb." He breathed out nervously as he dropped the backpack filled with their essentials down under the bus seat. His brother gave him a thumbs-up and a weak smile- a sign that he was just as nervous as Phineas.

"Listen up, maggots! I'm only gonna say this once, so pipe down. No yelling, no food or drink, and no talking to anyone not in your row-got that? Any infractions will get you a nice little _chat _with Sgt. Silzer when we get there, got it?"

"Well, the driver seems cheery." Phineas muttered sarcastically. Ferb snorted in agreement.

They rode in companiable silence for about a half-hour, until all of a sudden Phineas remembered something that he had been wanting to ask for a while.

"Hey, you remember when Aunt Pam came over with Sammie and Kenny?"

Technically speaking, "Aunt Pam" was not their aunt, but their mother's childhood best friend. The woman ran a foster home, and was always bringing kids over that never came more than once. Last time, it was Kenny, an energetic six-year-old boy who seemed to always be getting into trouble that was toeing the line between "mischievous" and "destructive", and Sam, a rather short black-haired teenage girl that wore all pink and spoke in a mix of Japanese and English with a slight lisp. The girl had taken one look at Phineas and Ferb and declared, "You know, you're just like the Elric brothers- glued at the hip.", which had earned her a collective "Huh?", just like the rest of her odd anime references. Apparently, _this _declaration of the obscurity of her chosen medium was the last straw, because Sammie gave a melodramatic 'gasp!' and herded them to the computer to make them watch the first episode of Full Metal Alchemist. Phineas had ended up taking an interest in Japanese because of it, and had been learning minor phrases ever since.

Ferb nodded, indicating that he did, in fact remember these two children, and Phineas continued.

"Well, when we watched FMA, you know how Alphonse always called Edward Nii-san? Well, it means "Big Brother", so I was kinda wondering if, you'd, you know......." He trailed off.

After a quizzical eyebrow-raise from his brother, he forged ahead.

"I was wondering if you'd, well, let me call you, um, Nii-san? Cause if we're gonna be at this place the rest of the summer, then we're gonna have to stick together-not just as partners, but as brothers, too, you know? So, maybe, If you're okay with it, ummm..."

The second trail-off in under three minutes. Phineas really must have been embarrased about this.

No matter. Ferb pulled him into a shoulder-hug, and said cheerfully, "Of course I'll be Nii-san."

The smaller boy brightened. "Really? I mean, you would? Just to me, you know?"

"Obviously just to you, you're the only little brother I've got. And I'm honored."

"Great!" After this exclamation of excitement, though, Phineas looked down to his lap and saw a small brochure- the one that had effectively ruined their summer.

"St. Pius's Rehabilitation and Reform Center for Dangerously-Minded Children (Managed and Operated by Sgt. Jeffrey Silzer)" The simple title held ominous meaning- what was there that needed _fixing_ about them, anyways? They'd done nothing wrong!

He laid the brochure down, sighing. Phineas leaned against Ferb, relaxing and using his brother as a pillow.

"I'm tired- I was so nervous last night that I barely slept." The redhead admitted, yawning. He closed his eyes.

"'Night, Nii-san." He said drowsily, rapidly succumbing to sleep.

Ferb draped one arm around his little brother contentedly, soon drifting asleep as well.

They slept like that the whole ride there.

* * *

All the boys stood, shoulder to shoulder, in front of their new bunks. Piles of drab gray clothing sat on top of the neatly-folded gray sheets.  
Most everything was gray at St Pius's, supposedly because gray "stimulates concentration and discipline", but Ferb figured it was just to discourage creativity by way of lack of color. The 'warden', Sergeant Silzer, was currently going over the rules, as he had been since they arrived. There were too many rules for comfort, most of which made no real sense, like "Always go to sleep on time" and "Not eating the ration of bread given with your meal will result in serious consequences", and apparently, they had given up their rights to freedom of speech and religion when they had walked in the door, because any viewpoints given that clashed with the Sergeant's would end in punishment, and they were to read the Bible every day.

Ferb had extreme doubts over exactly how many "unalienable" rights were going to be given to them here, but he kept these thoughts to himself. He wasn't exactly looking forward to finding out what Silzer's choice punishment for disagreeing with the 'Silzer way' would be. Safest method would be to wait until some other poor sap broke the rules, then gauge whether or not he could take it.

Unfortunately for him, Phineas didn't quite get the memo where it came to being quiet, and as the large man took a breath during his speech on "American Integrity and How it is Being Compromised by Immigration", Phineas decided to ask, "Sir? Why aren't there any girls here?"

The Sergeant grinned dangerously at him.  
"Because, women are more easily controlled than men. The few girls that have a dangerous spark of creativity and intelligence are generally encouraged to hide it, and it is soon squashed out by the demands of home life and taking care of children-" He was clearly about to get started on another rant, when he was interrupted. Again.  
"Hey!" Phineas protested. "Our friend Isabella is really smart, and she's gonna be able to do anything she wants to, not just have some guy's kids and follow his orders the rest of her life!"

Silzer paused, then turned to face the small boy with a glint of cruelty in his eyes. "Did you just contradict me?"

Phineas took a frightened step back, and Ferb decided it was high time to act.  
"You're being a hypocrite. You say America is the best country in the world, yet you deny us the basic rights given to us by the Constitution and the Bill of Rights? I don't think your logic quite holds up to scrutin-"  
Before he had finished this sentence, he was lying flat on his back, and his chest felt constricted, like there was an iron band across his torso-  
Or the Sergeant had one of his steel-toed boots pressing against his chest cavity.

"Shut up, runt." He began, leering unpleasantly. "I don't like you- unnatural hair color, a little brother that you guard like a dog guards its food- according to our information, you weren't even born in the 'States, how would you know how our rights work? I'll tell you right now, you stupid kids are nothing but criminals to me, and if you ever speak out against me again, I'll show you who the real Alpha male is- _and if you get real lucky, I might not hurt your brother._"  
This last part was a harsh whisper that made Ferb's blood run cold.

_Not Phineas_, he thought. _Do whatever you want to me, I don't care. But do not ever hurt my little brother._

* * *

**Okay. Second chapter. Breathe. WHoo. Better now. Anyway, this chapter was a bitch to write, and I may or may not be editing it a few more times as I go along. So just point out a problem, any problem, and I'll be glad to fix it. But if you want to point these out, you're going to have to review..... So hit that pretty little button and type away! And seriously, if you have time to put it on Story Alerts or Favourites, then you have time to review. That is the only thing that keeps me from jumping out the window and running off to live in the wild while I'm at school, the thought that I'll get home and have review e-mails waiting. Oh, and sorry for the random anime reference there, but all you need to know about FMA is it's an anime that is about two brothers and their love and devotion for one another. It's super-awesome, and you should DEFINATELY watch it. DEFINATELY *Shifty eyes and creepy smile*****  
I do not own Phineas and Ferb. This fic is, yet again, dedicated to Brianna, and I want to thank her for her review last chapter(Oh, and Bri-chan? You spelled "Anonymous" wrong XD)  
SunsetofDoom out. Peace.**


	3. Chapter 3

_"And next up is the new sentimental hit single 'Little Brothers', sung by Ashley"-_

Candace turned the radio off in disgust. Could she not go ten minutes without being reminded exactly how much she missed Phineas and Ferb? It was a blow to her dignity, the least the universe could do for her was let her forget about it every once in a while. Yes, she admitted it. She actually missed the little cretins, now couldn't everyone just leave her alone about it?

"Candace? Why'd you turn the radio off? You look a little agitated, did you not like that song or something?"

Oh, right, Jeremy was here. Candace had nearly forgotten about him in her mental rant about her own softheartedness- which was odd, because normally she would be reduced to a pile of giggling Candace-goo about now with him actually in her house.

Yet another tribute to her disturbed emotional state. Oh, well. She sighed in exasperation. She hadn't thought that she could get more mentally unstable after the 'busting' freakouts. Aparrently, she had been wrong. When Jeremy asked, again, what was wrong, she finally spilled out everything that he didn't already know. Candace was surprised to find out that no one outside of their family knew that Phineas and Ferb had been sent away- as far as the rest of the neighborhood knew, the boys had vanished into thin air. She asked Jeremy if it was odd that she missed them.

"Pssht, no way!" Jeremy said with a dismissive wave. "If Suzy was away at a _normal _summer camp I'd be freaking, let alone some psycho reformatory."

"Yes, but you're her big brother." Candace argued.

"And you're their big sister." Jeremy pointed out evenly.

Before they could continue this 'disagreement', the frond doorbell started ringing to the tune of "Shave and a Haircut", and Candace had to jump to get the door.

On the front step stood a curvy burnette dressed in full black leather examining her nails. Candace wrinkled her nose- goth was _so_ not her thing- and politely cleared her throat.

"Oh." The girl looked up with a bored expression. "Does Ferb Fletcher live here?"

Stunned, Candace only nodded. It wasn't like he was an antisocial freak or something, but most of Ferb's friends were Phineas's, and would ask for both boys when at the door. She had no idea how he had met a girl her age.

The girl in the doorway aparrently did not take kindly to being ignored. "Hello? Does he live here or not? If he does, I bet you're his stepsister, he told me she's a little spacey."

Oh, it was on now. Candace drew herself up to her extremely intimidating height of a good 5'4".

"Excuse me? This coming from a girl with the fashion sense of a widow? Newsflash, the 'grieving wife and mother' look went out in World War Two, thanks."

The burnette raised an eyebrow at Candace's pitiful attempt at an insult.

"Are you always this stuid, or are you making a special effort today? Look, I just want to see Ferb. Tell him that Vanessa wants to see him. I'm sure he'll be right down-"

"You can't see him." Short, clipped, and rude. Works wonders on deterring unwanted guests.

But the girl-Vanessa, was it?- aparrently wasn't going to be turned away. "Why the hell not?" she growled, setting her jaw determinedly.

"Because-" Candace faltered. Should she tell...? "Because he and his brother got sent to a reform camp. Won't be back till the end of the summer."

Vanessa snorted in disbelief. "Reform camp? What exactly needed reforming, their haircuts? 'Cause that's the only thing I say wrong with them."

Candace jerked upward in surprise. "You mean you didn't know about all those crazy things they built?"

"Of course I knew, he told me all about them! Went on about his brother like he was a little Albert Einstein, he sounded like a great kid. Where'd they get sent?"

There was an awkward pause, as Candace contemplated this question, then shook her head and said, "Come on in. I'll tell you the whole stupid story...."

* * *

"St. Pius's?! No way. No." Vanessa was shaking her head emphatically at this revalation.

"What's wrong with it? Is it haunted or something?" Jeremy inquired gently. He wasn't quite getting the reason for all the drama, but you have to give the guy credit for trying.

"Are you kidding? The living in there are way more dangerous than the dead. A friend of my cousin's got sent there. A month after he went in, he attempted suicide." She barely repressed a shudder. "That place is Hell above-ground."

"Oh my God...:" Candace held her hand up to her mouth. How could she have done this?  
Vanessa lowered her eyes to the floor. She seemed to be contemplating something.  
When she looked back up, she was grinning dangerously.

"So, are we busting them out or what?"

* * *

**Okay, long time between updates, I know. But I have good reasons, I promise!  
...Okay, no I don't. But still. Anywho, I know this chapter is short. Get over it. And it seemed like a good place to end it. Next chapter is more Candace vs. Vanessa humorful stuff, then to the "Giant Climactic Chapter of Doom". Fun. Again, this is probably real crap, and I'll be revising it more as I go. So don't yell at me. Just tell me if you see a glaring error, and I'll fix it ASAP. Constructive criticism would be helpful too, because even though I'm decent enough with Candace and Vanessa, I can't write Jeremy to save my life. So yeah. **

**There, three chapters! HA! ADHD, you do NOT control me!**

**I do not own Phineas and Ferb. And this is dedicated to Brianna, and sponsored by Fishy Joe's Walrus Blubber! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

Vanessa's fingers drummed impatiantly on the steering wheel as Jeremy loaded up the back of the van. Candace, sitting beside her in the passenger seat, glared at the offending digits, trying to communicate her disapproval of the annoying rapping sound through psychic vibes; when this did not have the desired effect, she resorted to clearing her throat loudly in an effort to get Vanessa to notice.

"Can I help you?" smirked Vanessa in the most irritating method possible, still tapping. Candace glared fiercly, then relinquished the attempt with a sigh. Was it really worth the effort? To break the awkward-ness, Candace decided to ask a simple question that she had wanted the answer to since this strange girl had shown up randomly on her front doorstep.

"How exactly do you know my brother?"

Vanessa seemed quite startled by the question-perhaps she had assumed that Ferb would tell his family about her-and for once gave a straightforward answer.

"We met a few years ago, and since then we've seen each other around occasionally, but really the first time we talked much was about two months ago, when I got in a car crash- it wasn't serious or anything, but my car was screwed. He happened to be passing by, helped me get it to the car shop, then used the tools there and fixed it himself, cause I told him I didn't want any of the regular guys telling my dad. That was why I came by; I wanted to thank him for not ratting me out. We actually talked while he was working, I told him about some of my dad's weird inventions, and he told me some stories about he and his brother's crazy projects. He sounded pretty parental where the kid was concerned."

Candace found herself nodding- it was true, ever since last year, Ferb had been a bit overprotective of Phineas for some odd reason. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn't have cared; as far as she was concerned, if Ferb was looking out for Phineas, it meant that at least _she_ didn't have to. But now it made her wonder. Was this in any way related to what had happened last summer?

Candace's musings were cut off by Jeremy's asking, "So, Vanessa, how exactly did you wreck the car?" He sounded a bit tentative; probably because it was her who was in the driver's seat of the van, and getting in a car wreck wasn't exactly a part of the 'master plan'.

So when Vanessa's muttered reply included the words "stop sign", "hit", and "wasn't looking", he was still rather wary in his reply of "Oh, you just hit someone at the stop sign?" If she had, then it didn't really change anything; crowded intersections weren't exactly common on deserted highways and back roads.

"Well... Not exactly." She admitted sheepishly. "See, I wasn't watching where I was going, and I kind of drove up onto the sidewalk, and the stop sign-"

Jeremy had taken her place in the driver's seat before she completed her sentence.

* * *

Finally, the Terrible Trio left Vanessa's driveway inconspicously- If you call 'inconspicuously" in a large white van, with the words "Danville High School- THEATRE DEPARTMENT!" painted on the side graffiti-style in a variety of neon colors that made it all in all very headache-inducing. Aparrently, a friend of Vanessa's usually kept the van over the summer, but because of remodeling in his garage, he had asked her to keep it this year. The back was filled with cardboard boxes of costumes, scripts, and even an old video camera. There were only two seats in the front, though, which was the cause of not a little tension between Vanessa and Candace.

"Hey! I want to sit in front!"

"Ugh, no way! Besides, it's my van!"

"No, it sits in your driveway. Besides, I want to sit next to Jeremy- he doesn't even know you!"

"I need control of the radio. I am not going to spend three days listening to prep music."

"It's not prep music, it's just not people smashing their guitars on the stage and screaming!"

"Okay." Jeremy had aparrently hit a breaking point. But you really couldn't blame him- half an hour with two girls half-wrestling and half-screaming within two feet of them while trying to drive would push anyone to the brink. "Both of you just sit in the back until a conclusion can be reached. I will turn on the radio to whatever station, and if you have a problem with it, you can kill each other over the CDs. Got it?"

There was not much of an edge to his voice, but they sensed that there definately would be if they persisted. Both girls climbed in the back, glaring at each other. They settled on opposite sides, Vanessa sitting cross-legged on a box, Candace relaxing indian-style on the floor.

"**Thank** you." And with that, he turned on the radio to the first station that wasn't complete static.

_"Yo, I'll tell you what I want, what I really really want!"  
"So tell me what you want, what you really really want!"  
"I'll tell you what I want, what I really really want!"  
"So tell me what you want, what you really really want!"  
"I wanna-huh-I wanna-huh-I wanna-huh-I wanna-huh-I wanna really really really want a zig a zig ah!"_

And to Jeremy's eternal displeasure, the girls in the backseat both started singing along.

He groaned. This was going to be one long car ride.

* * *

"How many times did you listen to that?!" Jeremy demanded, hopping out of the van (or "torture chamber", as he had mentally renamed it) to get to the gas pump. Vanessa grinned widely, leaning against the 'colorful' exterior.

"Who cares? It's an awesome song!" Jeremy also had a sneaking suspicion that Vanessa, in particular, was partially singing along the whole time because she knew just how much he hated it.

_"If you wanna be my lover-" _began Candace.

_"You gotta get with my friends!" _Vanessa completed. The two of them giggled.

"Oh, please, no." Jeremy begged. "That song has destroyed enough of my brain cells already."

Vanessa laughed. "You sure it's not just a side effect of being around Candace?"

Candace joined in on the laughter, punching her new friend lightly on the arm. "Yeah, right, girl. What happened to 'I'm not listening to prep music'?"

"That song does not count. It played a vital role in my childhood!" She was getting rather silly now, but after over a few hours in the car it happens to the best of us.

"I know! I used to dance around my room listening to that!"

"Ah, the nineties..." Vanessa sighed, lost in her nostalgia.

Jeremy growled and banged his head against a pole.

* * *

**HAHA! Chapter four is up! Yay!**

**Okay. Jeremy= probably OOC, because A: I have no freaking clue how to write him. XP And B: He just had to listen to the Spice Girls for three hours. And he's a guy. And he hates that song. Thank the Mother that they pick different music after the Pit Stop, eh? *Eyebrow waggle*  
So, next chapter is Giant Climactic Chapter of Doom. Whee! Now, if I can just WRITE it....**

**Dedicated to Brianna. I do not own Phineas and Ferb.**


	5. Chapter 5

Candace looked up at the large metal structure nervously. Was this supposed to make people feel frightened and insignificant? If so, it was definately doing its job, and she wasn't even going in for 'treatment'. She figured it had to be about ten times worse for anyone who had to spend a whole summer in there. Trying to put herself in their shoes, she imagined being here, far away from home, with no place to go- but inside. She shuddered. No wonder she was feeling protective.

Shaking herself out of her thoughts, she turned back to the van to collaborate with Jeremy and Vanessa over a plan of action. They had decided to disguise themselves, lest the boys' reactions to their sister give them away. Now they had to decide what to disguise themselves as.

"We can't go in as parents, he has to know them all." Vanessa argued.

"But 'Nessa, what other choice do we have? There isn't any other way, what else are we going to get in as? Hobos? Cafeteria workers? That's no chance at all." Jeremy seemed very tired, of the entire adventure. He probably just wanted to go home.

Candace decided to look at their options. She looked in one of the van's various cardboard boxes marked 'COSTUMES'. First glance revealed: a hippie wig; a blonde bob wig; a pastel pink flowered business suit; a very long, very tangled false beard; a wireless microphone; dark black eyeliner and lipstick; blank cue cards; a black Sharpie; "Hello My Name Is" stickers; red spray-in hair dye; a pastel-colored stage makeup kit labeled 'housewife', and finally a very professional-looking blouse with tan slacks.

Then the lightbulb went on.

"Guys!" Candace called, holding up her costume materials. "I think I know how we should do this."

* * *

"Okay. I'm the interviewer, Jeremy, you operate the camera, and Vanessa, you're the director. All right? Now, can everyone safely say they know the plan?"

"We act like giant suck-up college film students to the Sarge, pretend to interview your brothers, then high-tail it out of there." Jeremy repeated back to her (for about the hundredth time), with a melodramatic sigh.

"You're big on 'plans', aren't you?" Vanessa observed dryly, not bothering to demonstrate that she knew their"master plan".

Inresponse to Vanessa, Candace simply rolled her eyes. It was really the only way to deal with the girl. "All right, then. So, we should probably disguise ourselves to look like college film students, right?"

Nodding from Vanessa and Jeremy.

"...Does anyone know what they look like?"

* * *

Finally, they just decided to not look like themselves- after the conclusion had been reached that college students did, in fact, look like everyone else- but that was proving a bit difficult on its own. Candace had already decided to wear the blonde wig, the blouse and the slacks, to look like a 'real' news reporter, but Jeremy and Vanessa weren't given such easy choices. the actual costumes that were left were a "Punk Rocker" ensemble, complete with a chain-link belt and dark red hair dye, and a "Femenine Business-Woman" look, with the pastel pink suit- with flowers on it.

"Candace, can you just settle this?!" Jeremy yelled, after twenty solid minutes of bickering.

"I want to be the rocker, you can be a tranny, pink is more your style than mine anyway!" Vanessa was kind of freaking- she was going to be forced into something pink, for the first time since her "It's a Girl" bibs from the baby shower. And even those she had tried to throw up on.

"Vanessa! We need to look as different from ourselves as possible!"

"I don't care! I'm not wearing pink!"

Candace gave her a viscious glare. "Do you want to save my brothers?" Just then, what sounded suspiciously like a scream came from inside the metal building.

Fuming, the goth girl nodded.

* * *

They were a very odd-looking group; a young blonde woman with a microphone, a guy in all black clothes with dark, firey red streaks in his dirty-blonde hair carrying a video camera, and an extremely unhappy-looking woman in a pink business suit, her brown hair done in a French braid.

"I cannot belive I am doing this." growled an angry Vanessa.

"Yeah, well. You are. So just shut up, before I-"

"Guys!" Jeremy hissed. "The door is right there!"

It opened.

Before them stood a man- he wasn't incredibly tall, but somehow seemed rather threatening; something to do with his eyes? They were small and colored an icy white-blue, forver squinting in a mistrustful glare.

But as they explained their cover story, and an oily, fishy smile spread across his unpleasant face that was usually reserved for parents concerned about the welfare of their "little darlings", Candace knew they had won him over, at least for now.

Now all she could do was wonder if that was a good thing.

* * *

They were waiting in a small gray room that appeared to be made entirely out of concrete. There was a small metal bench pressed against the wall, for the boys to sit on. Jeremy was setting up the camera, evidently having a bit of difficulty. The damn thing was straight from the eighties, so it was going to take a bit of fiddling. Luckily, just as he got it set up, the door opened.

The Sarge's head popped in.

"If you'll excuse me, I have to speak to the _other_ one in the hall for a minute." He smiled, looking rather like a shark.

The door opened wider.

All three teenagers leaned forward unconciously.

A small boy stepped into the bleak concrete room, drowning in his too-large dark gray sweatshirt. His eyes were locked on the floor, and he looked much too thin to be at all healthy. Small red marks covered the knuckles of his hands.

The child shuffled over to the small bench in the back, nearly tripping several times, his eyes still trained on the floor. As he sat down, Candace noticed that he was barely breathing, and his eyes fluttered from exaustion and hopelessness. His previously vibrant orange hair was ratty and thin, with _something_ caked on in several places. Candace absolutely refused to consider it being blood.

And finally, Candace realized that this was _Phineas_, and not just some random, beaten boy that had been sent in by mistake. She felt a pang of guilt. Her own little brother, and she had sent him here? To rot away in the dark and pain, just so that she could have some 'quiet time' with her friends?

Pulling herself away from her guilt, Candace played her "role" as the concerned interviewer.

"Phineas? Can we ask you a couple of questions, hon?" She really wasn't _supposed_ to be concerned; but, she reasoned, who the hell wouldn't be?

The youth seemed to shrink a little into the depths of his extraordinarily large sweatshirt.

Finally, he muttered something. None of them could hear what it was, but it was something, and it at least meant that he hadn't gone mute.

"What?"

The muttered word was now intelligible., but still sounded like gibberish "Kneesawn"? What on earth did that mean?

Aparrently feeling their confusion somehow, for he had not looked up at them the entire time, he whispered hoarsely, "Brother."

"You want your brother to be here before you say anything." Vanessa provided a translation, too shocked for even a snide comment or a sarcastic tone, or even anything above a whisper. They had expected disenheartened. They had expected angry. But not this.

He nodded, the barest movement of his chin signifying that her statement was correct. And he sat. Completely still. No hyperactivity or creativity here. Just one scared, scarred little boy.

Candace moved closer to the door, trying to hear what exactly was going on. It would do them no good to sit around staring at Phineas like he was a zoo animal.

Concentrating, she heard the Sargeant speaking with her other brother.

_"You tell them anything about my so-called 'objectionable' methods, and I promise you, I will find out. But trust me, **you** won't be punished- but you will get to listen to your precious little brother scream, and if you get lucky I'll leave him alive. Barely. Do you understand me?"_

No answer.

_"I said do you understand me?" _A small yelp, and a low British voice, dripping with hatred, growling out _"Yes, sir."_

_"Good. Now get in there, you pathetic runt."_

Thankfully, Candace had the good sense to step away from the door, before it flew open to reveal the Sargeant, twisting Ferb's arm behind his back, the boy's teeth gritted in mutiny before getting thrown violently on the floor. He, at least, was wearing a dirty white T-shirt, so they could see the mutitude of bruises peppered up and down his arms. There was an air of wildness about him, almost animalistic, seeeming that he was used to fighting for survival.

Rubbing his arm, he got up off the dirty concrete floor, muttering something under his breath (probably cursewords) and stumbled over to sit next to his brother.

What happened next was almost unexplainable.

The two boys had a conversation. Through facial expressions. That is the only way to describe it.

Phineas raised his eyebrows slightly in concern, glancing first at Ferb's bruised arm, then at his face. The meaning was rather clear.  
_Are you okay?_

The elder boy grinned recklessly, twisting his arm a little.  
_Yeah, of course I am. Don't worry about it.  
_He twisted it a little too far, and hissed in pain.  
_Or not._

Phineas looked at him with an air of dry skeptecism.  
_Don't hurt yourself._

Ferb snorted almost imperceptively, rolling his eyes towards the door.  
_Sarge does that plenty, thanks_.

The redhead sighed and leaned against his brother, closing his eyes in defeat.  
_We're never getting out of here._

Ferb put his arm around his little brother.  
_But we have each other._

All three teenagers in the room were completely confused.

* * *

"Guys, why are you so protective of each other?"

The impromptu question surprised them, but Candace needed to know the answer. No way was she leaving here without even discovering that. Unfortunately, she could still hear Silzer standing outside the door, probably listening to every word.

_No wonder they learned how to talk without saying anything. They're monitored 24/7._

Phineas shot up and scoffed sarcastically at this, which was surprising- the Phineas that Candace knew had never scoffed at anything in his life and had a deadly allergy to sarcasm- but even more so were the words that followed.

"You want to know why we protect each other? You ever thought that maybe, we had no one else left? I mean, our parents wanted us gone, our friends obviously don't care, Hell, our sister was turning cartwheels when we left, she was so happy to see us go! We've lost everyone but each other, no one else could care whether we lived or died in this stupid hellhole, and-"

His hysterical rant, that had been growing steadily louder as he spoke, was rapidly cut off by a small, odd sound, like his breathing just temporarily stopped  
Then he started coughing. For a good minute, he fought for oxygen as his small hand fluttered over his chest, sounding like every breath caused great pain. Ferb rubbed his back, a slightly panicked expression on his face, until finally, it stopped. The only sound in the room was Phineas's labored breathing, until he had recovered enough to sit up on his own.

As soon as he had stopped his slight anxiety attack, Ferb spoke. Quietly, but surely, and the words flowed with great meaning.

"It's true. No one wants us. We have to stay together. Everyone is trying to tear us apart, but the day I leave Phineas to fend for himself when he needs me will be the day I'm in my grave. If we don't protect each other, no one else will. Because _we're all we've got_."

"No."

He looked up quickly. Surely he had misheard?

But no. She was pulling away the blonde hairpiece, letting her own red-orange hair fall from the bobby pins keeping it under the wig.

And their sister was smiling down at them.

"You aren't alone."

Both their mouths fell open. At the same time.

Unfortunately, so did the door. The Sargeant grinned a toothy crocodile smile.

"Could you three perhaps not be who you said you were?" His face darkened. "Get out. Before I throw you out. And you two-" He glowered at Phineas and Ferb- "I will deal with you later."

Both boys froze in terror.

* * *

"Well, that was a stupid waste of time." Vanessa muttered to herself, but there was no real feeling in it. They knew that they had come so close, only to fail. Miserably. And if they didn't leave now, they wouldn't be back home until after they had said they would.

Candace gazed up at the intimidating metal structure yet again, wondering how they would survive. They would protect each other, of course; but would that be enough?

From inside the building, she heard a pained, terrified scream. She hurried back to the van.

She spent the rest of the drive hoping and praying desperately that it was just a bird.

* * *

***happy dances* YAAAAAY! I DID IT! But, as you may have noticed, this ISN'T the giant CLIMACTIC chapter! YAY FOR PLOT TWISTS! Don't worry, they'll be fine. Maybe. Kind of. If I feel like it. And don't expect updates this fast; I just really, really needed to write this, because it's been floating around in my brain for MONTHS. MONTHS, I tell you! *sob***

**Dedicated to Brianna, P&F belongs to Dan and Swampy. Damn them.**

**(And just to leave you a bit of a cliffy: That scream that Candace heard?**

**..... It was from Ferb. *Scurries*)**


	6. Chapter 6

Breathe. Just lay there, and breathe. All he could do. Breathe and feel every newly-created bruise on his body ache as he lay on the hard concrete floor.

And he still hadn't made a sound.

It was almost a game, started when his brother, not knowing what he was beginning, had mentioned that Ferb "didn't talk much". From then on, it had become almost a competition, between he and the sadistic Sergeant, the man doing everything in his power to get him to speak, or scream, or _something_. And the boy took it, trying not to give in, because the second he made a sound, the bastard would go after his brother.

So he lay there, eyes closed, wishing he could pretend that all the other boys weren't staring at him. Thank God that Phineas at least had the common sense to stay out of sight. Most of the time.

"Still not giving up?" The man's voice had lowered to an angry growl. Ferb didn't move. He couldn't.

But then, he heard an unmistakeable shriek, one of pure terror, and he forced himself to lift his head, a good two inches.

And froze.

That goddamn no-good excuse for a human being had Phineas suspended a good foot off the ground, holding the shaking child around the midsection with his left hand. The man's right hand was holding a knife, poised directly above the boy's right shoulder. He only had time to squeak a terrified "Nii-san!", before the knife, made for gutting small fish, forced itself into his upper arm. By this point, Ferb was screaming desperately, not caring if he was giving up or not.

_"No! No! Not him, you goddamn bastard! Me! Damnit, hurt me, no! Just leave him alone! Phineas! He's my little brother, don't hurt him! Please, anything, just let him go! Phineas! No! Hold on! Please..."_

Phineas was hyperventilating, not being able to make a sound, his nervous system overloaded with signals from too many places, and dangerously close to passing out altogether. The bloodflow was increasing, there was blood all _over, _it was _everywhere,_ his mind seemed to be speeding up, repeating, _no, no, no, not happening, not happening, help me, please, someone, Nii-san, help, it hurts, it hurts, let me go, lemmego, lemmego, please...._

Inch by horrifying inch, this went on. Halfway down, bleeding, everywhere, over and over, until.

Finally.

It stopped.

The Sergeant dropped the boy on the floor, hard, who now had a neat line of blood stretching down from his shoulder to his elbow, bleeding profusely. The child was shaking, gasping, whimpering as he tried to deal with the pain.

"Don't cross me again." Were his last words, as he stormed down the hall to his office.

Ferb didn't hear him. Scrambling up, as fast as he could, stumbling only once, skidding to his knees in front of his brother, babbling in fear, confusion, anxiety.

"Phineas? Are you okay? Please, answer me, don't die, damnit, you can't, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I let you get hurt...." Or something to this effect. Phineas was taking it as best he could, biting his lip until it, too, was bleeding fiercely.

_Too much gone,_was his last conscious thought.

* * *

When he finally woke up, his arm ached like all the demons of Hell were all buzzing around in it, and the light stung his eyes. He closed them again. Not ready for light yet. He tried to go back to sleep. This wasn't where he was supposed to be, he must be dreaming, any minute now he'd wake up seconds before his alarm went off, grab Perry, call out to Ferb, figure out what they were going to do that day.....

"Phineas?" His brother's voice echoed with exhaustion and fear, even in the single, whispered word.

Phineas opened his eyes.

His brother was kneeling next to him on the bunk bed, his tired, bloodshot eyes filled with concern.

"Are you okay? I stayed awake all night, I didn't want to be asleep when you woke up, in case you were scared, or hurt, or..."

Phineas smiled weakly, about to respond, when he started to cough. Bringing his arm up to help his breathing, he mistakenly used his right arm, the movement stimulating firey sparks of pain along his whole body. He fell back, trying to breathe as well as possible, shaking slightly. He clenched his eyes shut.

Ferb sighed, pushing his head into his hands. This was becoming too much of a pattern lately.

He looked at Phineas, and realized something. Finally. After God-only-knows how long, he realized it.

"We have got to get out of here."

* * *

Candace sat in the front seat of the van, staring at the sky emptily. She couldn't save them.

Her cell-phone buzzed. She jumped; her phone had been on the fritz lately, and would only rarely pick up calls, meaning she got a lot of voice mails.

She picked it up, almost surprised at how weird it felt in her hand. Before, she had used it every day, almost. To call-

Her mother. That was who was calling? How odd. The shoe was on the other foot now.

"Hello?"

"Candace?" Her mother sounded worried. "Where are you?"

"Mom, we left a note, I'm in Montana, for a..." She paused, unable to find a good excuse. Over her shoulder, Vanessa mouthed, "anime".

"An anime convention! Yeah, that's it. I went with Jeremy, and one of his friends."

"Good, then. News just came in from St. Pius's, the boys-"

What? Oh, no, he wouldn't have called their mother about the rescue attempt, would he?

"The boys have run away, we need you to come home, try to find them along the way. I have to go, I have to make a few more calls-"

"But, Mom-" Candace began, but was cut off. Her mother had hung up! Disgusted, Candace stared at the offending communication device, and noticed something.

She had thirteen unheard messages, all from the same number. She picked one at random. A frantic, high-pitched voice filled the air.

"Candace? It's me. Isabella. Again. Look, I know I've left a bunch of messages saying this, but where are Phineas and Ferb? They're just not there anymore, and I asked your mom but she slammed the door on me! Okay, just, just call me back, you know my number, tell me what's going on, you can't keep me in the dark forever. Call me. Bye."

The message ended there.

Candace was hitting the buttons before the dial tone even started again.

Isabella picked up on the first ring.

"Candace?! Finally! Where are you, the area code's all weird, what's going on with the boys?"

"Isabella." Candace's voice was urgent. "No time for questions. Listen to me. Phineas and Ferb were sent to a reformatory. They've been there since mid-June. We went to see them; they're not holding up well. We'll tell you the full story later. But we're going to go after them, and get them home. But it would help if our parents were at least slightly convinced, you know? Do it whatever way you choose. We need your help."

"Hmm... Reformatory... I can work with that." Candace could almost hear the wheels turning in Isabella's head.

She hung up.

"Jeremy. Turn around. Search the highways leading from St. Pius's to Danville."

"Why?" Vanessa sounded genuinely baffled by this. "You heard what they said. They don't have anyone left; they don't trust anyone bu each other. So why go home? They probably only left because they were being hurt. They're not going home, because they don't have a home left except each other."

Candace and Jeremy stared at each other. That... Actually made sense.

* * *

Ferb breathed in deeply, the fresh forest air seemingly cleansing his lungs of every poison he had inhaled in that evil place. The forest was so peaceful, a bird singing softly two branches above him, his little brother sleeping soundly tucked in the two entwined branches that held them both.

When they had finally made the decision to escape, things had come along swiftly. Using a lighter that had been swiped earlier that summer by a kleptomaniac in the group, a boy that had now lost his entire personality, effectively erased by the chemical methods employed by the reformatory, coupled with a few choice chemical solutions from Ferb's Junior Scientist Kit that he had wisely brought along, they had blown a good-sized hole in the wall near the mess hall, and escaped into the forest, running for several hours before climbing this tree to sleep.

"Ehhh... Nii-san?"Phineas groaned sleepily. "Where..."

"In a tree." As usual these days, Ferb knew exactly what his brother was going to say before it came out of his mouth. They were more than brothers, they were inside each other's head. Bonded by blood, blood of theirs that had been spilled far too often.

"... How do we get down?" Ferb mentally sighed at this. The kid was smart, but knew next to nothing about climbing trees.

"I'll go down first. You come after me. Step on all the same branches as I do. Don't fall."

Unfortunately, it didn't work out that way. Before he knew exactly what had happened, Ferb was standing on solid ground, in front of Phineas.

Who was sitting on one of the roots, clutching his ankle tightly, hissing in pain.

"I heard a snap..." The small boy's voice was hoarse with either frustration or pain, probably both.

Ferb very nearly fell on the ground and screamed.

The gods had to be somewhere up there, placing bets on how long it took before he snapped.

* * *

**OH MY GOD. I can't believe this took so long to update! I'm sorry, I got wrapped up in whatever semblance of a life I have, you know the drill. I actually got into a bit of a new fandom, any of you seen How To Train Your Dragon? IT WAS AMAZING. Love the fanfics, but all the Human!Toothless/Hiccup is a bit off-putting. But I slog through it, because Protective!Toothless is freakin' amazing. In case you can't tell, I have a thing for overprotectiveness in certain characters. I will probably reread/revise this later, but right now it's 1:00 AM at my grandmother's house, and I need to sleep before she kicks my ass. Also, I'M SLEEPY.**


	7. Chapter 7

Ferb sighed, heaving himself down onto the ground and covering his face with his hands. _It's all my fault. I got him in there, I should've been able to get him out unscathed, at the very least. If I hadn't come up with that stupid, obvious idea, then maybe..._

He realized that Phineas was glaring at him critically from his perch on the upraised root.

"What?"

The boy kept on glaring as he spoke. "You're guilt-tripping."

"Yes."

"Again."

"Yes."

"Stop it."

"No."

The younger boy growled in exasperation. "Nii-san, it is _not_ your fault."

"Yes, it is."

"I'm tired of having this conversation! How in the hell could it be your fault? If anyone is gonna be blamed, it's me, or at the very least Candace!"

"I suggested to build the damn thing, if I'd thought to make something more, I don't know, discreet, then maybe-"

"Yeah? And I probably would've vetoed it anyway, and we would've ended up with whatever else would've gotten us caught. Nii-san, for the umpteenth time: _It is not your fault that I have inventor's block! _I can't control how many ideas my brain generates per year, neither can you or anyone else."

"No! This is not about how you couldn't come up with _any_ ideas, this is about how _my_ stupid arse couldn't seem to come up with _one_ that would keep us _safe_!"

Phineas rolled his eyes, continuing to bandage up his ankle as best he could, muttering all the while.

"If it's anyone's fault, it's Candace's. She pointed it out. Finally got what she wanted, and left us to get ourselves killed by a maniac."

"But she came back, didn't she." Ferb felt inclined to point that out. "She cared enough to come back for us."

"Probably just 'cause she felt guilty!" Phineas burst out. "She doesn't really care, and when or if we get home she'll just keep trying to hurt us!"

Ferb stared at him, eyes narrowing as a slightly frightening grin spread across his face.

"Then maybe we won't go home..."

Phineas winced. "Oh, no. I know that grin, and I know that I don't want _any_ part in whatever _completely insane _plan you've come up with this time, so if you would kindly..."

He tried to stand up and walk away.

Key word being 'tried'.

As he lay on the ground, wincing slightly as his ankle throbbed, he grinned sheepishly at his older brother.

"Looks like I may need your help to walk for a while..."

* * *

The two boys slowly progressing along the edge of the highway, both looking underfed, tired and beaten, one supporting the other as much as was humanly possible to keep the smaller boy's ankle from touching the ground, definitely would've made a shocking sight for anyone driving along the road, had there actually _been_anyone driving along. This stretch of road had been abandoned long ago, more than likely when the old prison destined for the wrecking ball had been bought by some ex-military do-gooder who opened some sort of children's facility (the man had been deliberately vague on that detail), and the only traffic that came by these days were food trucks and passenger buses at the beginning and end of summer. The nearest town was just under three miles away, a tiny place called Meridian. Nicknamed "misery" by local teenagers. The only real attractions of the place were... well... nothing.

But to Phineas and Ferb, the boring, nondescript town was a paradise and safe haven... If they ever actually, well, got there. Ferb had to half-carry his little brother, due to the bad ankle, and winding Phineas's arm around his shoulder to do it was next to impossible, given the giant split from his shoulder to his elbow hadn't really healed past the point of not dripping blood constantly. The end result was the back of Ferb's already-stained-past-the-point-of-wearability T-shirt had blood all along the back, and Phineas was constantly biting on either his lip or his knuckles to ignore the pain, but they were moving. Some.

And then, (likely just after one of them had complained that it "couldn't get any worse", although memory becomes rather foggy after more than a few hours) it began to _rain_. Not even a gentle, warm, comforting downpour so common of summer, but tiny, vengeful pinpricks that felt like tiny insects stinging constantly, hitting so hard that at first they thought it was hail.

And, wincing in the freezing, darting water being thrown at them by whatever holy being you choose, both boys came to the exact same conclusion.

"The universe _hates_ us."

* * *

An exit sign had never been a dearer sight. The two of them ran towards the sheltered gas station (well, walked faster-running was rather hard in their state), quickly huddling under the lighted roof together and scouting out someplace to bunk down. The first halfway-suitable place they spotted, an abandoned construction site with only two floors of the building done, was quickly, but silently, infiltrated, Ferb of course going first, because one, he wasn't crippled (well, not enough to hinder his movement at least), and two, what the hell kind of big brother would let his young, fragile, frightened brother go down into an unfinished basement without making sure that at the very least they wouldn't get killed by a axe murderer? Finally, seeing that it wasn't inhabited by anything other than spiders, they carefully maneuvered themselves down into the lowest level, pulled together a few tarps in the corner with the least cobwebs to make a bed, dried themselves off as best they could with what few paint rags were left laying on the floor, and promptly fell asleep as soon as they curled around each other.

And for once in the last two months, they had no nightmares. They were finally _safe_.

* * *

The next morning, (or likely mid-afternoon; they had both been tired, and there were no windows in the site), Ferb was up first-odd, when considering that Phineas had always been the first to wake, but not-so-odd, considering that to put it very simply, the boy was paranoid. The very thought that his brother could be taken from his care or harmed at all made him shift into a defensive, almost animal state of mind, taking note of who was in the room, what they were carrying and how it could be used as a weapon, any weapons he could potentially use, and the quickest route to safety.

(Say what you will, but you have to admit, he's _thorough_.)

The Sergeant had figured out one way to control them through this; every time either of them screwed up majorly, if he could get no reaction out of Ferb, he would then immediately turn to Phineas. The smallest threat of hurting the redhead was enough to send his big brother reeling, and most of the time it sent him reeling right back into line.

But just before they left, the system they were used to by then started to disintegrate. Not only was Ferb bearing everything the Sergeant threw at him with that annoying-as-hell determined poker face, whenever he threatened his little brother, the kid simply picked himself up, as best he could depending on where he had been hit, and gave Silzer the most cocky, irritating, 'I'm-better-than-you' smirk, and it would piss him off so much he'd only be able to hit the damn runt once or twice more before having to go back to his office for a smoke. Game over. They had won.

He could barely believe it. They had broken the system. Beaten the chemicals, the subliminal messaging, the abuse, the chores punishments. All of it. The two small, creative, stubborn boys had figured out how to survive in a place that no one else had. But unbeknownst to them, he was at this moment tracing their whereabouts and organizing a retrieval. They had challenged him, again, and, damnit, _they would not win this time._

"Phineas?" He whispered. The redheaded boy stirred, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"I'm going to go wander around, find a library or something, to get a map. We need to find out where we are, and we're going to need food, too. Just stay inside. Don't make too much noise. I'll be back as soon as I can."

Phineas nodded, still not quite awake. And as soon as the wooden stairs stopped creaking, he fell back into a now-restless sleep.

* * *

_Wow. Sunlight. Haven't seen that in a while, _thought Ferb, squinting into the afternoon sun. The small town was basically deserted, although a few small cars drifted past on the main road, as if not quite sure if there was anyplace worth going. There probably wasn't, not for them at least, but anyways. He had work to do; fishing out the twenty dollar bill he had stuffed in the lining of his shoe before leaving home, he headed across the street to the gas station. He bought the healthiest things he could find (hey, this is a gas station. It's not exactly Healthy Foods+Groceries), and asked for directions to the library.

It was a small white building, totally unrecognizable as a library and not a home, except for the sign on the corner. The front porch housed a large, worn-out desk, and a teenage girl sitting at it filing her nails. Almost all the places you would put furniture in were taken over by bookshelves, with several broken-in couches left around haphazardly. The "Nonfiction" section was towards the back.

And there was a window seat. With curtains. He grinned.

There he stayed for about twenty minutes; first, he actually pursued his given reason for finding the library, figuring out where the hell they were. Turns out, they were in an upper corner of Montana. Great. So they couldn't go home, and they definitely couldn't stay here, and the nearest decent-sized city was about twenty miles away. How wonderful. But after fifteen minutes of unbridled pessimism, he got around to his real motive for seeking out this place; finding out how to recognize and treat basic injuries. Including large cuts, burns, bruises, and most importantly, a broken ankle.

Five minutes after he sat down in the window with the first aid book, though, he saw a van. A very _familiar_ van. It was careening dangerously close to the sidewalk, and he could hear voices...

_"Vanessa, slow down, you're going to kill us all!"_

Vanessa. He had only ever seen one person drive like that. It was just before he fixed her car from the resulting crash. Just before he had confided in her that the one person he cared about more than any other...

Was inside an abandoned construction site. Alone. With a broken ankle and numerous other injuries. Probably sleeping.

_Please, please, please, don't turn left..._

The large white van screeched to a halt, as if unsure where it wanted to go.

And then turned violently left. Very nearly hitting a pedestrian.

_Oh, no._

Before his mind had completed the sentiment, he was on his feet, darting for the door, flying out the door, hit the ground running, go, go, go. Ignoring everything, his various injuries, his rapid heartbeat, his breath coming in short, frantic gasps. The only thing that mattered was getting back to Phineas as quickly as possible. Never mind the fact that they were driving and he was running. Not caring that they had a head start. Just a single-minded drive to get back to his brother and keep him safe. Operating mostly on instinct, being driven by the dictum that had been drilled into him since childhood.

At a very young age, he had heard one story from his grandfather, over and over. One that the old geezer had heard from _his_ father. The story of the Battle of Britain. When their entire country had been under fire, hearing bombs go off at all hours, scared, not knowing what to do, yet they had persisted. Fought back, even. When he was small, he hadn't understood the details, (_Why were they bombing us? What did we do wrong? If they were just bad people who would've let them do that?), _but he had always been very, very clear on the big concept.

_Never, ever, ever, **ever** give up._

That was his motto.

And now it was being put to the test.

Because as he approached the half-finished building that held his little brother, right behind the large white "Danville Theatre Company", was now another van. Painted dark gray. With the words "St. Pius's Reform Center" printed on a large dark blue circle.

That was when Ferb's heart stopped.  
Then started up, pounding twice as fast. Every instinct told him to run, far away, get anywhere but here. Yet he held his ground and walked-not ran, walked- towards the building. Trying his best to look calm. Cool. Mind whizzing underneath at about a million miles an hour, trying to figure out how the hell they would get out of this one.

* * *

Surprisingly enough, Phineas had been extracted from the basement rather easily. It probably had something to do with the fact that he was half-asleep, and assumed that his brother was out there.

Of course, when this turned out not to be the case, he panicked. And even more so when he saw his sister. The small boy panicked at the sight of Candace, trying to run and failing miserably due to a bad leg injury. But before they could chase after him, or even comprehend that he was going somewhere, a large, dark gray van pulled up behind theirs. Like a dark, ominous storm cloud. Vanessa had never been one for similes, but it seemed oddly fitting; everyone in the vicinity had what she had officially christened the "Oh Shit Reaction". This being, exactly what your personality and emotional structure pulls you to appear as when you're pretty much screwed. Candace drew herself up to make herself taller, looking for all the world like a mother hen defending her brood. Jeremy stiffened and went on alert. Vanessa herself found her center of gravity, balanced herself, pushed back her emotions, and became completely calm, just waiting for shit to hit the fan so she could spring into action.

Phineas fell to the ground, completely zoned out with panic. A man was getting out of the van, _oh, no, no, no, this isn't right, we were supposed to be safe... _He was coming closer. Five steps and he would be within arm's reach. Four. Three. The anxiety attack was getting worse, everything was speeding up and slowing down and speeding up again, and he knew if he had to bear this again something would snap inside, he would start screaming and never be able to stop, they'd take him away, he'd never see Nii-san again...

"Don't you _dare_ hurt _my brother_!"

Phineas could finally breathe again.

_Nii-san._

* * *

Stand up tall. Head up. Chin raised. Make eye contact, that was important- the man took it as a claim to equality and therefore rebellion, which was exactly why they had always kept their eyes locked on the ground.

Just look intimidating, basically. Of course, Ferb hadn't ever really been intimidating, nor had he ever really tried- he knew pressure point techniques, why look all muscled up when you can knock your opponent out with a single touch?- but he did his best. He ignored the rational part of his brain screaming at him to run, and instead focused on the instinctive drive to protect his family. All he had left of one.

He didn't have long to wait; at this point the mere sight of the color green was enough to put the Sargeant into "attack mode".

Two steps was all it took. Then Ferb felt strong, dizzying impact on the side of his head.

Then he felt the ground.

Immediately, he fell limp. That right there was really the secret- fall back into your own head during, then go ahead and lick your wounds after. Ferb had very nearly perfected this technique, to the point of not even realizing where he had been hit until later, when the bruises were forming. But it's not like he was unconscious, so when the expected blows never came, he sat up, ignoring his headache.

His jaw dropped.

Vanessa had walked right up to Silzer, and shoved her elbow directly into his adam's apple. _Hard. _And before he even started falling back, she had hooked her right ankle around his left one, pulling it out from under him. The man went down like a tree; Ferb literally had to fight off the urge to yell "Timber!" at the sight.

Everyone stared at her.

With a cocky grin, she pulled her long brown hair back into a ponytail, casually remarking, "I've been training with various forms of martial arts since I was four. I know what I'm doing."

Phineas had limped over to where Ferb was still laying on the ground. Yet another silent conversation.

_Are you okay?_

_I'm fine. I hope._

Phineas glanced at the van-and their sister-worriedly.

_Should we... Go with them?_

Ferb contemplated this for a moment. Candace might try to bring them back...

But Vanessa. She would protect them-or him, at the very least, and he could very well protect Phineas from there.

He looked at his brother. And nodded.

Phineas looked perplexed, to say the very least. Then Ferb inclined his head towards Vanessa- and the still-unmoving body of the Sarge.

The smaller boy raised his eyebrows in understanding, the flickerings of a tiny smile passing across his deep blue eyes.

"Need a hand up?"

It was Candace. She had her hand outstretched.

Phineas reached out, hesitant but willing to try. Then, as if remembering how much he was risking, snatched it back.

Ferb, determined as always, pushed himself up off the ground on his own.

Then blanched. He swayed.

"Candace?" He managed to gasp as he went down.

_"Nii-san!"_

**Oh, gods... I'm so, SO sorry. I waited waaaaaaay too long to start this. But I did get it up. If you're reading this. But I seriously did try. Phoenix was really, really helpful. See, man, I got it up! Now, in return, you should totally put, like, oodles of Ferbella hints into Chains of Fate. Okay, kidding. Don't leave, seriously...  
I DID NOT mean to leave this so damn long. Once again, I'm sorry. But I think we only have one chappie to go. I think. But, show of hands, who wants a sequel? Tell me in reviews. PLEASE review. Only thing keeping me in school. And SRSLY, no one or two word reviews; I dont get that. WHY only put in like one word? Ugh. Things are too damn busy in my life. If you want me to update sooner next time, then review, or PM me. Spam the pages with it; I'm less likely to do something if I'm not being kicked in the ass the entire way, whether by my muse or my reviewers. I love you all. Phoenix and Spoon-chan and Hotpink Jelly Bean are the ones that come to mind, but if you already reviewed and didn't see your name, REVIEW MORE. Haha. JK I love you all. And as a reward for being patient, I decided to combine chapter seven and chapter eight, to make one giant chapter of awesome that was a bitch to write. I'm sleepy.**

**G'night everybody!**


	8. Chapter 8

Ferb took several deep breaths, readying himself for the onslaught of light that was sure to come the second he opened his eyes. He lightly shifted his limbs, ruling out extreme pain or excessive bleeding as reason for his unconsiousness.

So... Where was he, and why had he been passed out? He could definitely feel something reassuringly solid under him. Meaning he wasn't on his bunk. No concrete that he could tell. Very hushed voices speaking, two sounding female...

Wait, female? There weren't any girls at St. Pius's. Especially not teenage girls. _Especially_ not teenage girls sounding _exactly like his older sister_.

The boy sat up like a shot, ignoring the throbbing in his head at the sudden motion.

He was in the back of a van. Laying on top of an upside-down cardboard box. With an absurdly large paisely-patterned housedress laying on top of him. He stared at it increduously for a few seconds, wondering how much more odd his life could get.

Mentally commenting on his sister's lack of taste in dresses, Ferb looked around the van, trying to recall the events that led to this specific state of affairs.

Before he could complete this difficult thought process, however, he spotted a tuft of orange hair sticking behind a box to his right, and reflexively pushed himself off the box. Landing on the floor awkwardly, he scrambed to his little brother's side.

_"Phineas!"_

The boy looked up, shocked and afraid. He caught a glimpse of who was coming towards him, and he lit up with relief.

_"Nii-san!"_

The smaller boy pushed himself up with difficulty, wrapping his arms around his brother. It had been frightening, not knowing when he'd wake up. For a solid twelve hours he had sat in the same position, not closing his eyes to rest or even saying a word. But now they were safe and okay, and they'd be taken care of. He clung tighter.

_What..._

Eyes narrowing, Phineas pulled back. "Nii-san, let me see your injuries... We should bandage 'em now, or they might get worse."

Ferb shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny. "N-no, you're hurt more than I am. We should do yours first." He made a bit of a show of looking through a box for suitable bandages.

"Let me see. Then we'll decide whose are worse." Phineas said, edging himself towards his brother and grabbing his shoulder.

Ferb hissed quietly, stiffening in pain and guilt, trying not to show his reaction.

Phineas's expression changed from gentle concern to curious and worried, edging on anger.

"Nii-san. Let me see." His tone was stern.

"No."

"Stubborn ass. Let me see. Now."

Ferb was silent and still.

"_Do it_. Or I'll cut off your shirt and do it _for_ you."

"..."

Ferb turned, eyes lowered, pulling up the back of his battered T-shirt up to his neck.

Phineas's face contorted into a mask of absolute horror. Vanessa looked up from her perch on top of a few boxes, and gasped.

The boy's back was a complete mess of the worst burn scars either had ever seen. Straight lines up and down, coupled with bruising, made it rather obvious he had been hit with a hot poker several times, but the rest was so red and raw it was hard to tell.

"You... You hid this from me?" Phineas's voice had raised several octaves in his emotional state.

Ferb looked down. "I didn't want you to worry..."

"Worried?" He sounded incredulous and hysterical. "Well, I'm worried now, you hypocrytical ass! Why would you let him do that to you?"

His face set into a grim mask, his eyes ablaze.

"Turn around. I'm bandaging them."

Ferb sucked in a breath as as his brother touched his back with the rough cloth, clinching his eyes shut. Good God, it was _agony..._

He gave the redhead a weak glare. "Mother hen." He managed to choke out the half-insult through the pain that the tight cloth brought.

Phineas gave another small jerk. "If you don't take care of yourself, _someone_ has to."

* * *

Two hours later, the makeshift bandages had loosened to the point that the pressure was almost comforting, and Phineas had given it his "Protective Little Brother Seal Of Approval", before promptly going to sleep. Ferb was currently whittling away at a prop crutch, making it approprate for Phineas-height.

He picked up a small screwdriver, trying to tighten a loose screw holding the pieces of wood together.

As his fingers tightened around the tool, he gasped, eyes widening. Then he set his jaw in stubbornness. Vanessa could see the thought written on every line of his face.

_I'm going to do this if it kills me._

He pulled it two feet up in the air, holding it out in front of him like you would a barbell.

His hand started shaking. The boy tightened his fingers. This cycle repeated.

Again and again, his mile-wide defiant streak making him fight the trembling in his hand. For a whole five minutes.

Then, unable to stand it any longer, he dropped the small metal screwdriver as if it had burned him.

Ferb finally relaxed, defeated, his head hitting the side of the van with a mocking _clang_.

Vanessa stared in wonder and confusion.

"Hey. Kid."

She saw his green-coated head swing up. He looked exhausted.

"Can I ask you a question or two?"

He shrugged.

"What did they do to you in there? Or, rather, what did _he_ do to you in there?"

An almost-invisible shudder passed through his body. She hadn't thought it possible, but somehow he made his posture even more scared and closed-off than it already had been.

"Never mind. You don't have to answer that."

He relaxed. Just a little, but it was good enough.

"Anything else then?" Ferb sounded tired. He'd been carrying too heavy a weight, and for too long. Vanessa could see that now.

"Your sister said something about an incident last summer. One that made you prematurely protective of Shrimpy over there..."

His large brown eyes widened, shocked that she would ask, but even more shocked at the pure, choking surge of emotion that came with the memories.

He stared blankly into space for a long moment, lost in his own mind. But just when she had been ready to deem this question, too, unanswerable, he began to speak. A fragile, ready-to-break whisper, raggedly torn from his dry throat.

"It was stupid. It was my own fault. I shouldn't have gotten mad at him, shouldn't have yelled, it was my fault, not his, never his, but I was so scared..."

Suddenly remembering that Vanessa was waiting for him to make any kind of sense, he shook his head, turning towards her to make eye contact that didn't quite seem substantial.

"We were riding in the street. Even though everyone told us not to. I should've listened. But I didn't. Just like I didn't any of the other close calls we'd had. I didn't protect him, because I didn't think it was my responsibility, even though it was, and look what happened... Some stupid teenager came down the road, wasn't looking, and I didn't get Phineas out of the road quick enough, someone screamed... And I looked, and he was laying there."

Ferb took a shaky breath, still not closing his eyes even though they were getting red and raw.

"He wasn't moving."

"And I ran inside, I tried to get Candace to listen, but she didn't, until I told her he hadn't moved, and she looked so scared, that I realized that he could die, and it'd be my fault, and I'd die without him. He's my little brother. My support system. And the only reason I keep going. So he's my responsibility, but I was stupid enough not to see that, and he got hurt. But when we got home, even though he only had a concussion, I was so scared and mad that I started yelling at him, until I realized that I wasn't yelling at him."

With his face red, eyes wide, trying not to cry or scream or show _weakness_, the too-thin child began on another hysterical tirade against himself with a thick, trembling voice.

"I was yelling at me. I _deserve_ it, damn it, because I let him get _hurt_ and he's _my little brother _and I'm supposed to _protect_ him and I _couldn't_, I was selfish and stupid and now we're both fucked up and it's _my fault_."

He buried his face in his hands, crunching into a ball, pushing back and forth on his heels, his mind forcing him into a circle of guilt and pain that would never, never stop until-

"Kid. Shut up. _Now_. It is _not_ your fault."

His head shot up, staring her down like an animal with bloodshot eyes, wanting, wishing, hoping that it was true.

"Ever. You're what, ten?"

"Twelve." Ferb's voice held a tremor of something in between a laugh and a sob.

"So it's not your responsibility. Not as much as you think it is, anyways. He may be your little brother, but you're just a kid yourself. No one expects this much from you but _yourself_. So get the _fuck_ over it."

He was still shaking, his panic not fading completely yet. "It's not that easy."

"Start on it. It'll get better eventually, and you can't do it if you don't start first."

Vanessa's voice softened. "It's gonna be okay."

Then, still undecided as to whether it was a bad idea or not, she pulled her arms around him in an easy embrace. Ferb stiffened, conflicted between his instinctive drive to _run, get away, don't let her hurt you_, and his complete emotional _exhaustion_.

Exhaustion won. He relaxed, letting his head fall against her stomach, falling into her warmth. Before he faded into darkness, there was one final hesitation.

"Do you really think it's not my fault?"

She contemplated the question, and decided that with a kid this smart and distrustful, she wouldn't get away with any pretty white lies.

"Some is. It was a stupid decision to ride in the street, and I think that offering yourself up as a punching bag in exchange for Phin's safety may have done more harm than good." Her hand found its way into his tangled, bloodstained mess of bright green hair.

"But you did your best. And this will pass. And he loves you."

Her hand moved down, rubbing soothing circles into his back as his breathing deepened, still trying to stay awake to hear her answer.

"And so do I, little brother."

Ferb, the eternally strong, silent older brother, who had gone through too much for any age and just suffered from a moderate emotional breakdown, finally sank fully against his adoptive sister's body.

Resting.

Finally.

* * *

**I'll make an author's note later. Too much angst and italics, I know, but I figured you good people needed an update so that you didn't storm my house with torches and pitchforks.**

**SOMEONE REVIEW MY STAR TREK STORY, DAMN IT!**

**Live long and prosper, but I'm not sure I can raise my hand for the salute. That sore. Damn mountain biking. Never touching anything with handbrakes again.**

**Peace.**


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